


Very Terribly Unlikely Illogically (II)

by Azaraethe



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: A Rackam and Noa cameo, Biting, Cassius's Rather Awkward First Time, Erotica, Eustace has Amazing Hands, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Licking, M/M, References to Knotting, Scents & Smells, Waitress-san needs to see this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-19 07:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22773931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azaraethe/pseuds/Azaraethe
Summary: Eustace returns to the Grandcypher with Cassius in tow. Cassius is still baffled about what had happened back at the cafe. His request to return to the cafe was rejected and instead, Eustace offers to do something else for him.Do read the first chapter - Very Terribly Unlikely Illogically (I) to obtain the full experience of this story.Chapters 2 and 3 of Very Terribly Unlikely Illogically are hosted separately as they have an Explicit tag.(There is one paragraph depicting Rackam and Noa's relationship with each other. That part is quite vital to the flow of the storyline. However, this is essentially focused on Cassius and Eustace.)
Relationships: Eustace/Cassius (Granblue Fantasy), Noa/Rackam (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 42





	1. Very Terribly Unlikely Illogically (II)

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my beloved K, and everyone else who loves Cassius and his little idiosyncrasies and his delicious interactions with Eustace.

It was extremely late when they returned to the Grandcypher. The airship was quiet, and her sail-wings were folded at rest, accordion-style, pressed against the enormous inflated balloon above. 

The weather was mild tonight. Pleasing, in fact, with soft, warm winds blowing across the skies. Before Eustace went in search of Cassius, he’d spotted most of the crew leaving, off to enjoy their last night in this trading town. The helmsman mentioned something about alcohol and fried chicken. With that, he persuaded the entire entourage of the Captain, Lyria, and everyone else to join him. A very reluctant Noa, whom the crew picked up from their earlier stop at Golonzo, was dragged along. 

Eustace remembered warning the Captain about a slew of thefts just last week at these docks. The Captain, though, was remarkably relaxed about the news and even told the Erune not to fret so much.

Cassius was deathly silent as he climbed up to the deck of the airship, his mind occupied with that one single thought. Eustace rested his palms on his hips. He surveyed the empty deck and cast a glance over at the moon dweller. 

“Let us go back to our rooms then. The flight tomorrow is in the afternoon, but we should be awake earlier to help the Captain.”

The Erune started across the deck, the long panels of his cloak flapping behind him. There was just a slip of moon, pandering sufficient light to see. The slow thuds of Cassius’s boots sounded behind his, woeful and sluggish. Eustace paused, turning to look at Cassius.

“Eustace.”

The pale man lifted his gaze barely at the Erune. His mind buzzed uncomfortably.

(I must find out what happened. It must be a time-warp in the quantum layer.)

(The food must have disintegrated in the time-warp.)

(It may be dangerous.)

“I wish to return to the cafe.” 

“Now?” Eustace’s response was slitted, his eyes narrowed. “It is already after the curfew set for you, Cassius.”

“Now.”

The Erune did not relent, and his face hardened. 

“No. We will go to sleep now.”

Cassius did not budge from where he stood. Stubbornly, he took a step back, his hand clasped tight around the spear bound to his back. 

“Cassius. You had your dinner, and it is late.” Patience, Eustace reminded himself as his annoyance grew within and roared in his ears. Patience like he would deal with a child. Sighing, the Erune breathed, calming himself down. He turned fully, facing the moon dweller.

“Why do you wish to go back?”

(I must not tell him about the time-warp.)

“I want to have another plate of food. I am not fulfilled.”

Cassius pulled Yek from behind his back and held the spear tightly with both his hands. The weapon glowed and pulsed and went dark. He lifted Yek upright, brandishing the spear in front of him.

“I have checked my nourishment levels. It is not complete for today.” 

Eustace stopped himself from rolling his eyes. His face darkened for a moment, and the dour look softened from his features. However, a curfew was a curfew. He was under orders to ensure that Cassius was not wandering about at certain times, day or night. He took two steps forth, closed the distance between him and Cassius, and gripped the pale man’s wrist. 

“We are not going back to the cafe. It is too late.” He gave Cassius’s wrist a forceful tug, indicating to the latter to follow. “I will make you some food. We will go to the galley.”

Eustace’s voice was steely, his grip iron-tight. Cassius soon realized he was not going anywhere, despite his string of excuses. 

(A time-warp is not dangerous unless it leads to a wormhole. This would take at least a few hours.)

(I will investigate before we leave tomorrow afternoon.)

Cassius bowed his head in acceptance and allowed himself to be led to the ship’s kitchen.

The Grandcypher’s galley was an efficient arrangement of longitudinal units and overhead cabinets. Long cabinets lined the space in the middle, serving as storage and as countertops. The stoves were all gimballed to accommodate the rocking and rolling of the airship in flight. There was a door set away from the stove range and usually left open. This door led to the ship’s pantry and food stores. Some of the overhead cabinets were plastered with handwritten notes, recipe cards, childish drawings, and name labels of the crew members who stored their cookware in them. The kitchen doors were unlocked, and the two men made their way in. 

Eustace pulled the doors closed behind them, the hinges creaking and clicking in protest. He pursed his mouth, mentally noting that he would inform the Captain tomorrow about repairs to the galley’s doors.

“Cassius, wait there.” 

Eustace directed the pale man to sit on one of the bar-stools at a cabinet countertop near to the pantry. Cassius twisted his lips and sat, unbinding Yek from his back but still keeping a hold on his weapon. He observed Eustace eagerly.

The Erune seemed familiar with the layout of the galley, moving briskly to pull on a cord near a wall before entering the pantry. A row of large metal lamps that hung across a low wooden beam above Cassius flickered, an orange light layering over him in soft pops. 

In moments, Eustace had returned from the pantry, a small box in one hand, and the other balancing a large wooden bowl with some ingredients. The Erune had unbuttoned his gloves, folded them, and they hung out of his side-pocket.

Cassius craned his head in interest at the items in Eustace’s arms. He recognized the vegetables - Zeta taught him at the market last week. A half-head of cabbage and some tomatoes. Cassius felt slightly pleased he could identify the eggs, and he grinned. 

The moon dweller twisted his head as he set down Yek. He gripped his fingers on the edge of the bar-stool for balance. Curiosity had prompted him to look at the food-store beyond the pantry door, and he peeked like a child at the shadowy recess beyond.

With Cassius preoccupied, Eustace rolled the head of cabbage in his hand, weighing it. He glanced up at the row of overheads in front of him, trying to find the cabinet labeled with Beatrix’s clumsy handwriting. 

_Click._

_Click. Click._

The sounds were faint but recognizable. 

The doors.

Eustace placed the cabbage back into the wooden bowl. In short, swift motions, he shoved all the ingredients under the countertop. 

Cassius had whipped his attention back from his observation of the pantry, his eyes darting in the direction of the galley’s exit.

_Click._

The Erune signaled to Cassius to pick Yek up and follow him into the pantry. Eustace’s frown latched deep between his eyebrows. Tomorrow, he’d go to the Captain with not only about the repairs but also to make sure his report on criminals was taken seriously. 

That would be after he subdued whatever or whoever was attempting to open the galley’s doors. 

“Why are we hiding?” Cassius asked. The moon dweller was perplexed. He was made to stand behind the ajar door and was trying to steal a glance through the gap.

“Thieves.” The Erune murmured, flattening his back against the wall, next to the moon dweller. He eased the backstrap of his gun against his palm, his fingers instinctively arching over the weapon’s release guard. “Or it might be someone from the Empire.”

“We should be able to fight them with our strength. I do not understand why we are hiding here.”

“There is no route of escape in this room, Eustace. It is a mistake to stay here.”

“Eustace.”

Eustace made a low ‘tch’ under his breath. Lifting his hand swiftly, he clapped a palm over Cassius’s mouth. 

“Quiet.”

The Erune shifted the pantry door’s angle, narrowing the gap but leaving it wide enough for him to observe the situation in the galley. The hinges creaked shrilly in protest, and the doors burst open.

It was not a thief.

Eustace’s characteristic low rumble seethed again out of his throat. Cassius pushed the Erune’s palm away from his mouth and ducked himself low enough to peer out of the gap. 

The moon dweller’s eyes grew wide and bewildered at what he was witnessing.

Rackam had kicked the galley doors open and was stumbling backward into the kitchen. He staggered, and his gait was unsteady. His rough voice lifted cheerily in a couple of shouts and mumbles, and his arms flailed around a tiny white-garbed body clinging to him. The helmsman made a cooing sound and hooked his bare arms under the slender arms of his companion. In one triumphant movement, he lifted Noa to sit on a countertop. Rackam’s thick fingers lifted and pushed, attempting to move the complex layers of the primal’s clothing from his small, lithe body. The helmsman finally succeeded, peeling off his partner’s top and, in a cracked, slurring voice, professed his love loudly as he kissed Noa’s mouth and face all over.

“He’s drunk,” Eustace growled, locking his gun back in place and holstering the weapon. He stepped away from the wall and further from the door. His arms moved to cross his chest again. Cassius made a little sound as if he’d discovered something novel. Eustace sighed, letting his breath roll out of his lips to release his irritation and stood behind the half-crouched Cassius.

(This is an act of reproduction.)

(The helmsman is a human. His mate is of another species.)

(The environment seems illogical. Why do fossildwellers choose to mate in a place where they prepare materials for physical nourishment?)

Cassius blew a breath out of his closed lips, almost whistling. He knelt on the ground, continuing to observe the action in the most exceptional spirit of an investigator.

A moan resounded across the galley, reaching into the pantry. Eustace closed his eyes and mumbled something under his breath. An orchestra of noises followed, each one even lewder than the next. Sounds that would have heated one’s desires and made a lesser being flush in tightening need. The Erune gripped his fingers into his palms, another breath drifting from his lips. He could hear his heartbeat thump, the rising beats echoing in his ears. 

It was too long before Eustace heard only his heartbeat, and he vaguely recollected a loud thud and the click-creak of the hinges. And the slam of the doors.

Eustace flicked an eyelid open, his eyes widening briefly before his gaze calmed. Cassius was sitting on the ground, his legs sprawled, a knee crooked at an angle, and a strange, wrought expression in his eyes. 

“Did you fall?” The Erune stretched out a hand to help Cassius up. A glance out of the door’s gap showed an empty galley. Rackam had dragged his lover elsewhere.

“No.” The pale man uttered, his voice fettered and clipped. “I just have a lot of questions on my mind.”

(There is an odd discomfort between my legs. I cannot stand properly.)

(I am not able to describe this. It was not in the manual which I was instructed to read.)

(However, I detect spikes in a set of neurotransmitters in my blood. I do not remember what they are called.)

Bothered and distracted, Cassius slipped his hand into Eustace’s, pressing his palm against the Erune’s skin. The pale man blinked, feeling a sharp, electric tingle bite into his flesh as he gripped Eustace’s hand tightly, pulling himself up. His ankles grew weak, and he lowered his head to relieve that sudden vertigo when he stood.

(Is my sensory system failing? What is this strange odor I am detecting?)

Eustace’s scent had become abnormally sharp and unusually strong. Cassius’s mind felt muddled and slow as he tried to equate the smell to the knowledge he had, to match it to something. But it felt _good_ , attractive, and addictive.

Cassius needed a name for the increasingly _good_ feeling he was suffused with at this moment. Also, an answer to another question which his disoriented mind refused to focus on.

“Eustace,” Cassius whispered, his voice low, uncharacteristically soft.

“Hmm?”

“I am very curious.” The moon dweller’s other hand moved, his fingers circling and gripping Eustace’s fingers, locking the Erune’s hands with his. 

That electrical tingle happened again. Cassius rubbed the pads of the Erune’s callused thumbs slowly.

It felt _good_.

(I want more.)

(No. I should not.)

He attempted to squash the lingering need down, struggling to relate to an objective need for scientific inquiry.

(I will ask him a question.)

“Is it common and possible for fossildwellers with completely no genetic relation to each other to mate?”

“It is common, and it is possible.” The Erune replied dryly, attempting to leech away the hoarseness in his voice with a cough. 

The moon dweller’s eyes widened, and his pale-white lashes flickered down to shade his sights. Cassius continued to press and edge his fingertips into Eustace’s palms, gripping at his skin lightly like tiny bites. He tugged the Erune close, wanting more of that delightful tingle. 

(I want more.)

Cassius’s mind hazed over gently. He was losing control.

(But I must research these neurotransmitters.)

If confusion was an expression, it’d had never shown up on Eustace’s face till this moment. But, only for a moment when a slight brush of his thigh against the moon dweller’s groin revealed to him the truth behind Cassius’s reactions. 

Cassius was hard. It did not occur to Eustace previously that the moon dweller’s body would be any different from that of his or any other male in the Sky Realm. The Erune found himself being yanked forward, his thighs fully pressed against the arched and stiff ridge beneath Cassius’s pants. 

The moon dweller’s eyes were closed, platinum lashes wavering like shadows over his cheeks, and his lips were parted slightly in heaving breaths. Fair, white fingers continued to delicately stroke his tanned hands, fondling Eustace’s fingers, thumbs and knuckles. He felt Cassius’s erection swell against him, the latter unconsciously urging his hard length between the closed juncture of Eustace’s thighs.

“Cassius.”

Cassius hmm-ed and peeled one eye open reluctantly. He did not want to break himself away from the waves of pleasure he was experiencing. Eustace was releasing an extremely incredible scent. It made Cassius’s belly, and his groin tremble in a very agreeable manner. 

Cassius’s eyes drifted to a close again. He felt wonderful, wanting, and willing.

Eustace was doing something to his hands; Cassius was not sure what, but it was still very nice. 

Splendid even. 

And the closest he could compare this _splendid_ feeling with, was when he saw the stars for the first time. The glint of the universe’s lights and the slow drift of a thousand galaxies. That vastness of deep space. And he felt magnificent that he was the center of it all and yet humbled to be just one of that many.

He seemed to drift in his thoughts for a while, then Cassius felt the imprint of flesh, and dampness. 

And there was a teasing prod of a tongue which attempted to part his lips and draw him in. Slowly. The tiny, wet licks on his mouth rose in a tentative gradation.

He reacted, lifting his mouth to mirror the act, questing his tongue after the other.

It was salty. Wet. 

(This is very fascinating.)

Eustace broke away from the kiss. His hands moved up to grip Cassius’s upper arms tightly, his head lowering, and he panted. He could smell Cassius - excruciatingly rich, heady, earthy like a wash of warm summer rain across a lush forest. In his mouth, in his head.

He drew the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. Eustace was overwhelmed for a moment and not just overwhelmed. 

He was absolutely taken.

And in that one small compartment of Cassius’s mind that seemed still lucid and fighting not to shut down, the moon dweller dazedly comprehended the Erune’s harshly whispered words.

“Cassius. I am going to help you.”


	2. Very Terribly Unlikely Illogically (III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassius smells good, does he not? Eustace is extremely charmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my beloved K, and everyone else who loves Cassius and his little idiosyncrasies, and his delicious interactions with Eustace.

Cassius thought he must have agreed to something, a contract. Consent? 

He must have said yes to Eustace’s proposition.

Whatever it was.

Dimly, Cassius registered a pair of hands moving down the expanse of his back, pressing, stroking, parting the locks of his long hair. Cassius’s legs buckled at the sensations, and his knees made contact with the edge of a table. 

Flicking an eye open, he noticed he was braced, fully naked, over the same table, the weight of the Erune lightly pushing down above him. It was not an unsatisfactory sensation.

His body responded, riding on a surge of that _good_ feeling again. He liked it.

(These _blasted_ neurotransmitters...)

They were still in the pantry. But the door was closed. There was a heap of things next to the two men - his pants, Eustace’s vest, their boots, his coat, Eustace’s pants, Yek.

“Eustace...”

“Not now.” Eustace’s lean body arched over his, the directive whispered firmly into Cassius’s ear. 

He placed a finger over the moon dweller’s lips, pressing his mouth shut. Eustace’s other hand had vanished, slipping forward to pet Cassius’s stomach, and with utmost patience, his fingers stroked, teased, and lingered between Cassius’s legs. 

Cassius squirmed, his breathing mounting into a moan that gentled into the air. The earlier discomfort between his legs was gone. A pleasing ache remained, drifting in and out of his groin. He widened his thighs and leaned back into Eustace’s hardness. Cassius had never encountered a circumstance that needed the application of this particular male appendage. His disorientated and very groggy mind recollected being given a manual to read, should he end up being involved in a fossildweller’s mating ritual. 

That particular guide was perfunctory and practical. 

The guide detailed nothing about the exact feelings he was experiencing at this moment. Cassius’s voice edged, rising into thin gasps. The slender organ between his legs was gripped tightly, stroked with a knowing hand. Cassius hissed, pressing his thighs together, his back curving sinuously to complement the rush of arousal through his body. His brain sifted through the images of the manual, unable to find definitions. His mind struggled to connect and comprehend. 

(These _damned_ neurotransmitters...)

“Eustace?”

“Not now.” The Erune growled, curving himself to press his chest against the pale man’s back. Eustace had sunk his face upon Cassius’s nape, kissing sweat-damped skin through the tangled strands of blonde.

Cassius’s scent was driving him to madness.

Was this some moon-mad, alien wickedness present in this man’s warped anatomy?

A dangerous compound that invoked such excessive lust in another?

Eustace’s breath vibrated ferociously in his throat, and he moved his hand to explore the root of the pale man’s hardened organ. With his mind heavy with suspicion and his body half-addled by lustful desire, Eustace’s fingers groped at the smooth hairless skin of the heavy sac underneath. 

That act drove another gasping cry from Cassius. That reaction made Cassius sound almost real. 

Almost mortal.

Momentarily gratified, he continued to kiss the back of Cassius’s neck, drawing his teeth across the exposed side of the man’s throat. His bites were small and savage as he rasped that scent off Cassius’s neck with his tongue. His hands palmed and jerked the man’s pale uncut cock. 

The organ swelled and plumped against his fingers.

(Something is here. I cannot control it. I cannot…)

“Eustace!” 

Cassius forced the Erune’s name out, his voice throaty, strained, and pleading. Thoughts ripped through his brain, fusing in incomplete phrases, broken sentences.

“Not yet, Cassius.” Eustace levered himself up, still arched over Cassius’s heaving back. The moon dweller turned his head sideways, his eyes flicking up to stare at the Erune. His mouth opened just barely, and his attempt to ask his question was muted, stolen by rough kisses wrecked on his mouth.

His sight was unfocused, the irises a dilated blur of translucent blue.

(Not yet?)

(Am I being educated here?)

(This was not in the manual at all.)

The question merged into a nebulous quagmire in his head, his attempt at coherence replaced by equal parts of moans and cries. Eustace felt the familiar pull and violent tremble through Cassius’s cock, the muscles coiling and shuddering rapidly and familiarly against his fingers. 

He pinched and gripped the tip of Cassius’s straining length, halting the man’s rising orgasm. The thick droplets which pearled on the organ’s glans were scraped away cleanly by Eustace’s fingers.

Cassius’s hips bucked and lurched. 

“Not yet, Cassius,” Eustace repeated sternly. 

The Erune shifted his hands, bracketing his palms on Cassius’s hips. 

As he pushed Cassius’s body forward, Eustace left a tiny gap between his erection and the firm roundness of Cassius’s butt. He stroked gently, his wet fingers coaxing Cassius’s legs to widen just slightly. And across the man’s quivering flesh, the Erune’s long fingers flexed, slicking damp trails across Cassius’s inner thighs.

Eustace slipped his knotted cock between the moon dweller’s damp thighs, the swollen head nudging and depressing against Cassius' flesh. The pale man's spine bowed further down in acceptance. The Erune's hands trailed up, his palms asserting a forceful hold on Cassius’s hips once more and pushed the man’s thighs tightly together.

Cassius trembled as a deep hot flush rose, aggressively warming his sac and his organ. An unknown, fervid heat seeped into his groin. He groaned as Eustace’s hands moved up to palm tightly around his waist, urging him to straighten and stand. His eyes lidded heavily and opened, watching in consumed fascination at the Erune’s thickness driving in and out between his clamped legs. 

Cassius stared.

Transfixed, bewitched by the glistening crown of Eustace’s cock pumping and scraping below his.

He whimpered again as his neck was nipped and sucked. Faintly, he heard Eustace growl once more and mutter. The Erune’s arms curled around his body and caged him tight. Cassius trembled.

The thrusting between his legs intensified, and so did the kisses and bites on the back of his neck. Hands, slightly wet and hot, pressed against his chest, grazing, scraping his feverish skin.

He gasped once more.

“Eustace…”

Cassius half-expected a denial. A ‘Not yet, Cassius.’

But Eustace did not reply; his voice caught in a stifled groan. 

Cassius’s hands flailed, and he gripped the edge of the table for balance. He felt his organ quake, his sac tighten, and an unfamiliar rush was rippling up from between his legs, chasing through his nerves. 

It forced itself up and _wrenched_ itself out of his cock.

A cry fled from Cassius as he came hard, his ejaculate spilling in long, ropey droplets to the pantry floor. He felt limp, lifeless, and almost on the verge of collapsing when his entire body was yanked upright. 

Eustace had pulled the moon dweller’s body tightly to him. He urged his swollen knot upwards into the tight crevice below Cassius’s butt. Snug and fitted, he jolted forward, _lunged, t_ he friction created by Cassius’s fevered skin against his knot ferociously goading his climax.

Eustace came with a riveting snarl, his release jerking and spasming thick, sticky strands down Cassius’s thighs. The orgasm tore through him, and as quickly as it came, it left. And as it withered away in his muted gasps, a rigid embarrassment rose and smoldered in his heart. The Erune released his hold on Cassius, and pulled away, stepping backward. Eustace’s chest heaved, drawing in short breaths to calm himself down. 

Cassius was panting loudly with his head lowered, his knees almost buckled again. His mind seemed to return to a semi-lucid mode.

(These _inappropriate_ neurotransmitters…) 

(When I return to the Moon, I will have to investigate the hidden conditions of this body.)

Cassius’s mind hazed once more, and he shook his head. Lethargically, he pulled himself away from the table, and his legs immediately gave way. He sank right down with a thud. The pantry floor felt chilly under his naked butt as he tried to shift his position. Now that he was able to lean his aching head lightly against the table’s leg, Cassius stretched his legs in front of him, and his eyes caught sight of Eustace.

The Erune was half-bent, his hands clasped to his knees and seemed to be catching his breath. Cassius’ head tilted to one side as he watched the Erune straighten.

A thought bloomed in his head, followed by another. 

(But that was very nice.)

(I might like to do it again.)

There was a soothing feeling threading through him, and a very intense desire to curl up on the ground and sleep. He pulled a knee up, attempting to tuck his leg towards him. Then, he discovered there was liquid slathered over his thighs - a musky, viscous liquid. Perturbed by it, Cassius swiped a finger across his inner thigh, looked at his damp fingers, and brought it up to his nose and lips.

“No, Cassius.”

Eustace crouched in front of him, pushing Cassius’s hand away, stopping him from smelling or tasting the aftermath of their sexual act. The Erune’s expression was exceedingly disapproving and upset.

“Eustace?”

The Erune straightened Cassius’s legs and dragged up the man’s pants unceremoniously over legs and wet thighs. Next came the boots. He fixed Cassius’s top awkwardly, pulling up the sides of the garment’s collar, so at least it covered the bite marks he’d had made across the man’s pale skin. 

Eustace dressed, and he paused, his sights drifting over Cassius, who still sat on the floor.

“We should return to our quarters.”

The Erune turned away to retrieve his cloak and gun. Cassius muttered an agreement, but he felt exhausted. He did not want to move from the ground. Whatever Eustace did to fix him was illogical but practical. It dealt with the discomfort he felt earlier, but now his strength was entirely sapped. His eyelids fluttered, heaving, and he pulled his legs up, close to him. Sleepily, Cassius rested his chin on his upturned knees.

“Cassius?”

A soft snore answered Eustace. 

The Erune’s thin lips hitched into a wry smile, and he placed his cloak around the moon dweller’s slumping shoulders. He retrieved Yek and tucked the spear behind him, buckled against his belt.

“Cassius.”

He was not expecting an answer. The pale man snored again, and a stubborn sniffle followed it.

Eustace’s shoulders shrugged in resignation. He crouched down once more and placed an arm around Cassius’s shoulders while the other was fitted under the crease of the man’s knees. With a low grunt, Eustace heaved Cassius into his embrace, letting the sleeping man’s head rest against his shoulder. Cassius muttered as he drowsed, his arms lifting to curl around Eustace’s neck in a loose hold. 

The Erune shook his head in exasperation, and with Cassius in his arms, he strode out of the galley. 

After tonight, the hesitation and conflict in him would surely grow deeper. Eustace had begun to feel a certain possessiveness over this man, and the revelation surprised him. The mission to bring Cassius back to Society Headquarters would be for now, at least, for Eustace, the most painful decision he had to make.


End file.
